Isthmus
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Dwelling on the Force, and the implications of potential parenthood, Luke has an eye-opening discussion with Mara - and Mara makes a significant decision regarding Luke's family. Identity 'verse. M/L.


a/n: a little glimpse of Luke & Mara, out on one of their knowledge quests. set during 7 ABY - between Casualty's final chapter, and Part 2 of the Epilogue (Haven opening).

* * *

 _Isthmus_

 _7 Aby_

* * *

Tython was quiet.

Quiet in the literal sense - absent was the grind of industry, the flurry of dense life - and quiet in the spiritual sense, as if the planet had long ago lost its ethereal voice. Where most flourishing planets sparked and glittered with presence, made loud and vivacious by the teeming life upon them, Tython was a shrouded riddle, an ancient puzzle in the Deep Core, rich with undiscovered history, and echoing with an eldritch silence that beckoned to him - beckoned, to Luke Skywalker, like irresistible treasure, offering insight into secrets so foregone, he could hardly fathom them.

It was one planet, among an extensive list, that Luke sought answers from; Tython swirled with whispers of forgotten danger, of origins, of power - the nature of it was striking, nestled as it was in the closely-knit fabric of the galaxy's core, surrounded by other planets full of the mundane and usual life and livelihood, yet so devoid of that same normality itself. Luke supposed - that once, Tython had brimmed with civilization, if the ruins that decorated the surface had anything to say, but now it was in disarray, abandoned, and isolated; frozen in time - by disaster, or by design, he was still unsure - that, he was here to investigate, to explore -

Tython, perhaps, was where the first Jedi Temple had risen towards the intangible stars above - and if it wasn't, then it was one of the earliest hearts of Jedi power, if Luke set any store by his extensive study and meditation - and he did; he trusted himself, his instincts - his feelings. This was a place where, if he found anything, it was unlikely to be academic history, or doctrinal information -no; here he would find wells of power, a touch of the divine, ethereal presence of the Force - new immersive experience that would serve his educational quests just as well as would a more concrete historiography of the Order.

Space travel to Tython was an adventure in itself; touching down on the sleepy world, sheathing his private ship away in the forests while he set out to find his companion - she who had reached into the depths of the Force and crafted a unique, safe path through hyperspace to the part of the planet that stood out most starkly in the mind's eye, and made her way here, defiant and solitary, tempting him to join her - it had been longer than usual since Luke had seen her, and he wondered, without daring tease her, if she had decided to take the first steps on Tython because she knew it was high on his inventory of Force-laden worlds to scrutinize, and it would draw him back to her fastest of any other she chose.

He found Mara in the dense heart of a rain forest, where she had come upon the wreckage of something - a temple, a fortress, some hallowed palace? - neither of them quite knew, yet; they understood only that it hummed with power, and sang to them both softly. There was uncharacteristic purity in the Force's presence here, and as with any place where there seemed to be no hint of darkness, Luke sensed how Mara bristled, defensive - wracked with guilt, sorrow, or even anger, over the perversions her mentors had taught her.

Staring up at the crumbling spirals that reached for the unknown night skies, Mara had pursed her lips, analytical - _I don't know if this is the first of the temples,_ she murmured, _but I know that the Sith, the Empire - never set foot in this place._ She nodded to herself - it was nothing like the temple on Lothal, the last place they had been together, where Luke had mourned of the ruins of a fine temple that had reeked with the stench of Sith destruction - Luke agreed with her; this place on Tython - whatever it had been, they would try to discover - was untouched by the rotting influence of the Dark Side.

And so surrounded by it, he knew Mara felt - subdued; repentant. More so than anything, the Force was the one entity that could draw remorse from Mara's scarred heart - it was the thing she had devoted her life to, from the moment she was yoked to the Emperor and made to obey, in exchange for privilege and safety; it was the thing that had remained to her, when all had fallen and seemed lost - and even if she had misused it, dominated it, rather than been honored by it - the Force was her saving grace, and no matter how she used it, in Luke's way, or in the way she was accustomed to - she respected it; respected its voice, and endowed it with more complexity, now that she attuned herself to the light.

For quite a while now, these expeditions of theirs were more than mere labors in discovery, they were clandestine interludes characterized by passion, rather than profession; the lines had blurred countless months ago, and no attempt was made to draw them boldly again - fate was sealed when Luke endured a frisson in this relationship with his sister regarding his paramour - an occurrence which filled Mara simultaneously with vindictive satisfaction, and daunted apprehension - her attitude towards the Princess had little to do with the woman's private self, of which Mara knew next to nothing, and everything to do with old prejudices, fused into her by her Emperor, and Lord Vader - and perceptions crafted, albeit unfairly, by the Media, and by an outsider's assessment of the iconic young woman who had crushed an Empire in her tiny hands.

Luke's sister was a pillar of unwavering goodness, and Mara was an Imperial shadow entangled in the most unconventional love affair she could have imagined - half-asleep, next to Darth Vader's son, and not for reason of coercion, or tradecraft, and not by any design of the Sith - but because she loved him, and aspired to his world of light, without somehow losing herself - and that she had fallen in love with him, or rather, been yanked into it, ambushed with the emotion before she knew what had happened - that still shocked her, and left her reeling; but Mara Jade was never one to fight her feelings - she only commanded them.

She drew him back to her with the temptation of Tython; she wanted to know what his reunion with Leia had been like - Luke was tight-lipped, regarding Leia's reaction to the illustration he'd given her of Mara herself: _former imperial assassin, sith apprentice -_ Luke's vague response that it had gone _as well as expected_ did not startle Mara, but it left her uncertain of his intentions. He had remained on Coruscant for a startling amount of time, this trip, yet Mara felt no dampening in his desire, and she wondered -

 _If the bitch keeps him from me -_

She closed her eyes tightly against her arms, resisting a sardonic laugh - she crushed thoughts that made her seem like a jealous schoolgirl; if Leia Solo made demands on her brother's love life, and Luke acquiesced to them, then she was cruel, perhaps, but _he_ would be the weak one; he would be the one Mara ought to hate - not that she ever could, hate Luke, but lying next to him, listening to his breathing calm, and ease, and finally settle, she wondered - what had kept him captive on Coruscant - was it Leia's unwavering morality, her anger at his affair with a less than moral woman? - and, and - did _Han Solo_ ever feel absurdly jealous of the platonic relationship that tethered the twins' fates together?

Luke was restless in the sleeping quilts next to her - while she lay still on her stomach, her face buried in her arms and the pillows, Luke shifted persistently, struggling for comfort. He began to move closer, kiss her shoulder, his hand skating over her back, and then he turned onto his, his foot stretched out to nudge against hers gently. Mara twitched her ankle at him - _Stop; it tickles,_ she growled wordlessly, her words echoing through his head with mock-menace.

Luke nudged her foot more insistently, and she jutted her elbow out, lazily poking his bicep with it - Luke stopped, and stared above him, listening to the quiet of the world, imagining, for a moment, that they didn't have their camping supplies with them, and they were exposed to the forest and the night sky - it would be freezing, but there were ways to keep warm - and those ways, that way, in particular, though inherently sacred and natural in feeling, often left Luke wondering if they really should be engaging in it surrounded by ancient altars of the faith.

 _Is it sacrilegious?_ \- Luke mused on Lothal, hidden under the vast stone temple with her, his lips moving over her sternum, down to her thighs - _The Jedi were prudes, and it killed them all_ \- Mara answered, a fitting response, Luke decided, draping her legs around his neck.

There was silence between them now, perhaps a little loaded, but not uneasy. Mara had yet to ask if Leia's reaction had cooled - Luke was anticipating that, yet he was preoccupied with thoughts he hadn't had before, contingencies he - immaturely - had never considered. With Mara's breathing soft and easy close to his ear, and her heartbeat against his shoulder, he was distracted with thoughts of what his sister had recently suffered.

"Mara," Luke ventured curiously, wide awake and staring at the sloping fabric of the tent.

The woman next to him murmured something lazily, her face still buried in pillows. Luke shifted his head on his arms, turning to look at the tangled mass of red hair he'd recently been dragging his fingers through.

"What sort of...birth control do you use?" he asked. "Is it reliable?"

There was no response, for a moment, and Luke winced a little, his eyes on her intently. She gave a protracted groan of annoyance, absorbed in trying to enjoy a languid, luxurious post-coital slumber, and made quite a show of lifting her head slightly to peek at him balefully, her expression incredulous.

"Luke," she growled, aloud this time. "Go to sleep."

He tilted his head.

"Am I not supposed to ask?" he queried politely. "Is it rude?"

"It is generally too late to ask after you've come inside someone," Mara mumbled into her pillow.

Luke started laughing quietly, supposing she had a point there - and, considering this was hardly their first tryst, she had the point several times over. She lifted her head, propping it on her hand, and her chin jutted out knowingly as she looked at him.

"You aren't going to go to sleep, are you, Skywalker?"

He shook his head simply.

"Why won't you ever just roll over and go to sleep?" she prodded, amused.

"It always seemed rude," Luke muttered. He looked over at her seriously. "I want to talk about this."

Mara sighed, and reached over, placing her hand on his forehead affectionately. She looked at him intently, studying his expression - silent for a long time. He was grave, almost, and her brow furrowed a little. She let her fingers fall over his brow, trailing back through his hair, and she rose up a little, leaning closer to him very seriously.

"I don't use it," she hissed. "I like surprises."

Luke gave her an alarmed look, and she burst into a wicked smirk immediately, shaking her head. She tugged at his hair a little playfully, and settled on her side next to him, pursing her lips when he turned on his side to stare at her, demanding answers.

"Teach you to think of it ages after the fact," she needled bluntly, cocking a brow pointedly. She licked her lips. "I use serum shots," she answered coolly. "I never miss them," she advised, and then her brow darkened warily, but before she spoke again, he said -

"Isn't an implant...safer?"

"Not if it fails," Mara retorted flatly.

Luke turned to look at her sharply, and she stared back at him.

"I don't trust them," she sniffed vaguely, and then narrowed her eyes. "Why the sudden interest?" she asked tightly.

Luke reached up and rubbed his jaw, letting his hand fall between them. He slid his other arm under his head, looking at her thoughtfully - despite what he'd told Han, that he told Mara everything, he hadn't told her _this_ immediately. He hadn't thought it appropriate over their sporadic holo messages, and he was preoccupied, at the time. He hesitated now, not out of uncertainty, but because he wasn't entirely sure why he was so intent on talking about it, except...he had felt so deeply what Leia was suffering, and he was so out of his element in that realm of the Force. He worried what he might feel if - well, accidents happened, and he supposed he was thinking - he and Mara ought to be...on the same page.

He sighed.

"Leia was pregnant," he murmured. "This last time I went back, she told me." He frowned. "She lost the baby while I was home."

He grimaced, thinking about it, and closed his eyes briefly.

"I felt a lot of what was happening," he muttered. "It was...unpleasant," he opened his eyes carefully. "So, I wanted to ask," he broke off, taken aback by the expression on Mara's face - her usually robust complexion was stark white, and she was staring at him with tightly compressed lips, a muscle in her temple throbbing. "Mara?" he asked softly.

She blinked sharply, at the sound of her name, and shook herself.

"How is she?" Mara asked grimly, catching him off guard.

Luke was silent a moment, considering her - Mara wasn't heartless, but when it came to Luke's family, she rarely engaged in a two-way conversation. More often than not, she listened, and offered perhaps one or two platitudes.

"Well, she's getting better," he said quietly - cautious, as if he thought her concern was a trap. "She's upset. They're _both_ upset," he amended earnestly. Mara was still silent, and pale, and he floundered a little, unsure what was going on. "It was rough on her," he said hoarsely. "Really rough. I didn't understand what was happening, and I thought she was dying."

"She felt like she was," Mara asserted bluntly. "That must have been unbearable," she said, matter-of-fact.

Luke's brow furrowed.

"Mara," he said again. "Are you alright?"

She nodded crisply. She looked at him for a bit, and then sat up rustling around in the quilts. She appeared to search for something, and then pointed over him to the corner of the tent, waving her fingers at his shirt.

"Hand me that," she requested under her breath. He did, and as she sat up, she slipped it on, shaking her hair loose out of the collar and leaning forward, driving her elbows into her thighs. She ran her hands over her face, shuddering. "Yeah, I'm alright," she muttered, sensing his concerned look. She chewed on the inside of her lip in agitation, resisting a desire to bolt from the tent - an absurd desire. Luke was the kindest man - person - she'd known in all her life, and she doubted he would repudiate her, but she felt cold all over.

He sat up a little, his weight resting on his arm. Mara pushed her hair back.

"How do you know Leia felt like she was dying?" he asked quietly.

Mara pursed her lips, and stared ahead of her.

"Because I've had an abortion," she said curtly, "and it was - remarkably unbearable, considering I didn't want the thing," she said abruptly. She was silent for another beat, and then tilted her head. "It was intensely painful, and I was _not_ distraught," she added, her tone flattening. "I imagine it was exponentially worse for Leia, if she wanted it."

Luke watched her thoughtfully, saying nothing. He knew Mara understood that Leia had wanted it, or it wouldn't be something that was weighing Luke down. He was struck by how visceral her reaction was - not, apparently, to the loss in itself, but to some memory of a process Luke would never be able to fathom, though Mara had evidently undertaken it voluntarily. He wondered if she wanted to talk about it - but he supposed she wouldn't have mentioned it if she had qualms about that.

"What happened?" he asked mildly.

He thought that was a genuine starting point. She could tell him, or she could redirect. Whichever she chose, he hoped she didn't run away.

Mara pushed her hands through her hair again. She brought her thumb to her mouth, and bit her nail.

"Faulty implant," she muttered. She bit at her nail wordlessly.

"Someone you were involved with?" Luke asked.

"No," she answered. "A client," she clarified. She pulled her hand from her mouth, and her lips curled in a sort of sneer. "I thought sleeping with him was keeping him under my thumb, but looking back, the Emperor may have been manipulating me," she said tightly. "I thought I was in charge. I may have been the payment he was getting."

Luke shifted grimly, listening - some of their time together was spent in meditation, helping Mara unravel what things in her life had been her own choice, and what had been a deeply invasive enslavement of mind orchestrated by Darth Sidious.

Mara was biting her thumbnail again. She drew her hand away, and turned to look at him.

"I don't want you to get it in your head that I have moral struggles over this," she said. "I was only ever interested in having an abortion. Nothing more."

Part of her - most of her - had run of the mill reasons; didn't care for the father, didn't have time, didn't have the fortitude to be a mother or the desire, didn't want to work the obvious issues around the demands of her job - but a small part of her, very small and humane, had been terrified of the gruesome interest the Emperor might show in the gestation of a Force-sensitive child, given the lack of knowledge about such a thing. She protected it, as much as she discarded it.

Luke's nod was calm, easy.

"Okay," he said. "I'm listening, Mara."

"Yes," she said, almost irritably, "your listening is always so loud and wise."

Luke smiled wryly.

"How soon did you know?" he asked. "That you were - "

"Within a week," Mara said firmly.

Luke's brows lifted with interest - _so did Leia,_ he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure at this point of Mara was attempting to relate, or if she was - he didn't know. He was, for the most part, listening; he was also curious about the nexus to the Force, in general. He had no one with his power to ask about fatherhood, save his own, and these days - Anakin Skywalker was a scarce figure, even in meditation.

"I went to the Emperor," Mara related. "He told me how to take care of it."

Luke sat up, leaning forward to touch her shoulder.

"You didn't go to a medic?" he asked, concerned. "You could have gotten hurt."

Mara shrugged off his concern.

"It seemed right that I do it," she answered, and tilted her head to look at him. "It was a matter of...unraveling the connection, between myself," she paused, "and it."

Luke's hand slid down her shoulder, resting against her back. His fingertips bunched in the t-shirt, and pressed into her lightly. He understood what she was saying, and he swallowed hard.

"And the Emperor showed you that?" he asked hoarsely.

"I had only operated in kinetics, for injury," Mara said. "The mind is...different."

Luke looked pale, and Mara studied him. He inched closer, sitting up next to her, and remaining attentive.

"You said it was painful?" he asked gently. "Physically?"

Mara sighed, a little tensely.

"Painful in many aspects," she said clinically. "Physical is a given. It's an externally induced unnatural progress," she analyzed. "It hurt." She shrugged flatly. "Menstruation hurts," she added, to underscore the normality of such pain. "Painful...in other ways," she paused. "I felt a sense of...loss - a dark burst of something that always is there, in the Force, when a being is lost," she explained - and Luke understood what she meant; it was a feeling like thunder, like bright lights doused, when the Force reclaimed a life. "I had some...primitive sense of maternal devastation that I recognized, but was detached from. As if it were there because - I have some inherited biological connection to motherhood, even if I don't want it."

She gave him a funny look, and then turned her head, eyes tilting up, arms falling loosely around her knees.

"The strange thing was," she reflected eerily, "as I," she twitched her hand callously, "shook it loose, as it faded," she mumbled, "it was almost as if it was...comforting me. Letting me know it understood. Sentient...sacrifice." She swallowed hard. "It didn't cling. It didn't fight to hold on. It...wanted to be wanted," she murmured, "and that caused a deeper pain that I haven't dwelt much on."

"It?" Luke said softly.

She nodded.

"The life," she said, with a short grimace.

Luke shifted, and parted his lips thoughtfully.

"Isn't the preferred rhetoric to classify it," he said delicately, "as not alive yet, that early?"

He didn't believe that, but he was world-wise enough to know the common arguments, and the so-called scientific reasoning behind the laws that governed these things from planet to planet. He found it laughable to base definitions of life on what scientists could save and keep living with machines and medical concoctions; viability was one thing, the core meaning of life was another, and outside the realm academia. Leia's experience directly contradicted such a reductive and obviously conscience-serving notion, but Luke was also world-wise enough not to jam his male opinions into the business of lawmaking, and debating.

As he contemplated it, Mara gave a derisive snort.

"It is a life," she snapped. "Those who think otherwise are foolish, and in any situation, I've never had much time for those who deny themselves the reality of their actions. I do not have that luxury; why should anyone else?" she asked coldly, and then pressed on: "However," her tone was still chilly, but she was thoughtful, and then she softened: "however, I've never felt guilt. And I do not assign blame to others. It is far smarter to distinguish an ember than it is to try to fight, or tame, a raging fire."

"Interesting metaphor," Luke remarked pensively.

"Well, if not a life - then what?" Mara demanded sharply.

Luke shrugged, and tilted his head.

"Mara, you know I think there is virtue in all life, even that considered non-sentient, and inconsequential. I'm just interested in your perspective."

Her expression was stubborn.

"The very trees surrounding these ruins are thrumming with life," she murmured. "It is utter arrogance to determine that sentient life begins when we want it to, rather than at that first," she waved her hand languidly, "spark. It's hubris to think otherwise. It's empty comfort."

Luke sighed.

"Sometimes, I think you're more attuned to the Force than I am."

Mara turned to him more fully, her expression thoughtful.

"Maybe women are, if we want to be," she suggested huskily, her eyes bold. "We're the bridge. The tether for new life. Or the grave for it."

Luke blinked slowly, fascinated - and Mara smiled at him a little, her shoulders falling. She turned to look ahead of her, and then laid back down on her back, staring up at the sloping tent with his t-shirt bunched around her hips. He turned to look at her, and stretched out on his stomach beside her, his shoulder against her shoulder.

"No guilt?" he asked - not unkindly, only curious.

She shook her head.

"There would have been no love, no safe place, no joy in the world for that life," she said. "What some see as selfish indulgence, others see as the merciful decision."

"No love?" Luke asked skeptically.

"Not from the woman I was then, Lu," she said honestly.

"You coped well," Luke said, a hint of admiration, and gentle comfort.

Mara gave a soft snort.

"For a year or two, I only slept with women," she retorted.

Luke grinned a little, amused. Mara cocked an eyebrow - _that_ was foolproof birth control. Luke shifted, and leaned over to kiss her shoulder. He lingered there for a while, reaching up to run his hand over her ribs, and she turned roughly onto her side, pushing him back with a hard expression.

"I did it myself," she reiterated harshly. "I terminated it with my use of the Force," she said.

"I heard what you said, Mara."

"You don't think that is an evil act?" she pressed. She caught his face in her hand, and lifted his chin, making him look at her - and he saw that she was not asking out of guilt, or a need for absolution, but because she was wildly interested in his lack of solemn preaching on the subject - her Luke, who was so keen on preservation, not decimation, of life. "It was concentrated will. Harnessing of the Force for offensive purpose."

Luke made an unexpected scoffing noise that was unmistakably genuine.

"I think intentions matter," he said aggressively. "It doesn't sound like you took any pleasure in the act."

"No," she agreed.

"You're not saying it out loud," Luke added perceptively, "but you were scared of what Sidious would do to you, and to it," he noted, and Mara narrowed her eyes, unsure how he'd pinpointed that. "You knew you were enslaved by him, even when you didn't," Luke pointed out. "The Jedi were not wholesome saints. Defense and peace was their aim, but they killed," he said. "I've killed," he said. " _Intentions_ matter," he reiterated. "That's a dangerous argument, at a certain point, because intentions do not always excuse atrocities, but Mara," he shook his head, shaking her hand off, but blinking at her softly. "What you're talking about, that's not an atrocity, that's just - personal agony, in some way or another."

"I'm not in agony."

"I don't think you have to be," Luke answered. "I also don't think it means you can't be a Jedi ,or be in the light."

He reached for her hand, sliding his over it.

"Your fire metaphor is a good one - you make a good point," he said honestly. "There's a difference between an abortion, and strangling a toddler in its sleep."

Mara's eyes roamed over his face intently. She compressed her lips.

"It's not something your sister would do," she said edgily. "It's another darkness in me you have to keep hidden, to make me softer for her," she said tightly.

Luke's muscles tensed a little, and he shook his head, his eyes narrow.

"You're wrong," he said, blunt and decisive. "I know you have your opinions about Leia's saintliness," he said, rolling his eyes a little, "But she'd get it. She'd _do_ it, if she had to."

Mara looked skeptical.

"Don't pay me lip-service, Luke."

"I'm not," he said stubbornly, his expression defensive, and certain. "Leia's pretty devastated right now, but that doesn't contradict how she'd feel in a different situation. There's a certain situation in particular in which I doubt Leia would have hesitated to have an abortion."

He did not elaborate, but Mara's attention was caught by the way he phrased it - would _have,_ not _would_ ; concrete, not hypothetical. She narrowed her eyes pensively, and lifted her chin.

"I thought those were all Imperial rumors," Mara said quietly.

"They _were_ ," Luke said, thin-lipped. "To an extent. She wasn't trading sexual favors, but - "

"Of course she wasn't," Mara said dully. "Even if she was, there is no such thing as consent in prison."

Luke's defensiveness faded a little, and his brow furrowed. He shook his head.

"I don't understand why you compare yourself to her," he said. "Why you have this - invisible competition."

Mara lifted her head, propping it up again.

"You idolize her," she retorted. "Unbelievable as it may seem, I find that intimidating," she said sarcastically.

"I don't idolize her," Luke countered, mirroring her shift in position. "I believe in her." He gave Mara a stony grimace, his lips turning down uncomfortably. "You make it sound like I'm in love with her."

Mara laughed.

"I don't think you have a thing for your sister," she assured him. She lifted her shoulders. "I do think I would lose an ultimatum."

She shifted, and her eyes narrowed softly, but intensely, searching his.

"Is that why you were gone so long this time?" she asked finally. "Because she lost her baby?"

Luke lifted his head, clearly understanding now that Mara must have thought it something else - aware as she was of the tension that had erupted between the twins since Luke had told Leia about the woman he was seeing. He smiled a little, and nodded honestly, relieved to answer something so simple.

"Yes," he said. "She's family. I've told you before how important that is to me."

Mara gave an understanding nod.

"I thought it was something else," she confessed simply.

Luke pulled her hand towards his lips, and kissed her palm.

"No," he whispered huskily.

Mara watched him bestow the kiss, and curled her fingers lightly. She rested her head on the pillow, staring at him, and cleared her throat.

"I am still not sure why you asked about my birth control," she said quietly.

Luke tucked her hand against his chest, and shrugged.

"Preoccupation," he decided. "I felt Leia's distress because she's my twin, but I wondered, I thought...if you," he seemed wary of saying the world _pregnant_ around her, not because of what they'd just talked about, but because Mara seemed like the type to think it boring or - or too intimate. "If it would be bad for me, like that, if the woman I was with lost a baby that was mine," he reflected. "Han said...he didn't feel anything. Except he was upset for Leia."

"I doubt you would feel it like I would," Mara said succinctly. "I would assume you would feel more than Han," she assessed - "not to diminish Han. In terms of the Force."

Luke nodded. Mara cocked an eyebrow.

"And given that - you want to know what we would do, if something happened?" she asked.

Luke grit his teeth.

"You picked up on that. I get the feeling that's why you laid your history out," he said.

She looked at him silently, for a long time.

"Well," she said shortly. "Ask it."

Luke laid his head down, too, eye-level with her. He didn't ask aloud, he only stared back at her, curious himself - what he'd think, what he'd do. It was an easy choice for him - he liked children, he'd like to have them. He knew it was less of a light decision, for her - for most women; he'd certainly seen enough of Leia's uncertainty. After a moment, he shrugged, and shook his head.

"No, I'm not going to," he said finally. "There's no point. There's no way of knowing how we'd feel," he decided. "I want to know...that if that happened, you'd tell me, no matter what you were going to do. You wouldn't shut me out."

Mara nodded, her lips twitching up slightly - a fair, honest, and unassuming deal. Luke moved a little closer, and leaned in to kiss her, his eyes lingering open, caught on hers. She tapped her fingers lightly and warmly against his chest - she exhibited such calm, resolved insight, even in the depths of a wrenching discussion that could curdle the blood of others - and she was always put together. There was never a dam on the verge of breaking, with Mara - as Luke had recognized before, she was unlike his sister in that respect. For a long time, Leia had imprisoned things that had happened to her, and things she felt - Mara was curt, private, and controlled, but never emotionally inhibited. Perhaps it was something in the way the Emperor had taught her to infuse her power with wild emotion. Perhaps it was something all her own.

Marveling at it, Luke wrapped her up in an embrace, more tender than Mara was generally used to, or comfortable with, though she did not pull away. Deep down, she harbored a fierce promise to herself to never truly hurt Luke's feelings, and she let him hold her tightly.

Luke took a deep breath.

"I love you," he said finally, murmuring the words into her hair - he hadn't said it to her before, and both of them knew it, both of them had acute awareness of the absence of those three words, made more apparent because Mara, herself, had said them, so matter-of-fact, and confident.

Luke closed his eyes tightly, an unexpected fear clawing at his heart, terror, at giving in completely to the feeling that had so obviously had a hold on him for so long, and relief, at finally being able to voice it. Why he had been so unable, he was unsure - but it seemed easy, now, it seemed less daunting - he thought of Han, lecturing him - _if you love that woman, you're fucked...it's gonna shock you, how much you want it to be that way._

It didn't shock him. But it did invigorate him.

Mara ran her hand through his hair.

"I don't blame you, Lu," she quipped huskily, her lips brushing his jaw. She rolled towards him, pushing him onto his back easily and draping herself over him, lashes inches from his. She ran her hand over his temple, inching forward to kiss him possessively, thrilled, in a private, girlish way, to hear him say it with such confidence, such truth. "I love you," she agreed, kissing him again, softer.

Luke grinned, his hands falling to her hips. She drew back, after a moment, her expression contemplative, lips pursed - and she cleared her throat, nodding, as if she had made a decision.

"I want to meet her," she said firmly. "Leia."

Luke drew back, his brows going up. Mara nodded again. She tilted her head slightly, her lips compressing.

"We might have some common ground. A sliver. An isthmus," she said dryly.

Luke laughed, as a rush of relief spiraled through him - one of the two most important women in his life conceding a little was enough to celebrate, and after his most recent chat with Leia about Mara - and the privilege Mara may not have had - he was more hopeful of Leia's eventual acceptance, too. Knowing Han was pretty much more than willing to give her a fair chance was heartening in itself, because Han - whether he actively utilized it or not - had plenty of influence on Leia.

"I want you to meet her, too," Luke confided hoarsely. He brushed his knuckles under her chin. "This last time I was there, I told her I wouldn't give you up. I made her understand that," he said. "I didn't want to tell you I was that firm with her because it seemed...manipulative."

If he'd told Mara that he put his relationship with Leia irrevocably on the line by telling her that he refused to repudiate Mara to satisfy Leia's personal, or political, sensibilities, it would seem like an obligation for her to reciprocate with something she wasn't quite ready for -

"Aw, Lu," Mara crooned softly, as if touched - and then she smirked gently, "you could never manipulate me," she teased.

Luke snorted, flushing, and rolled his eyes. He sat forward a little, resting on his elbows, and Mara leaned up.

"It'll still be some time, before," he said, warning her. "Leia _and_ Han are still healing. This Alderaan thing that's coming up, she _needs_ the sole focus of that."

Mara gave a simple nod of understanding.

"I want you to meet the Naberries, too," he burst out excitedly. "It might be best to meet them first. Jobal would love it. And, Leia trusts them - I don't think she'd be offended - "

She laughed, giving him a narrow look.

"Take it easy," she soothed wryly, pushing him down and straddling him. She bent over him primly. "Your sister, now your extended family? Slow down, Skywalker; what's next, you marry me?"

He ran his hands over her thighs.

"Don't tempt me, Jade," he answered fiercely.

Her eyes bright with mild surprise, she tilted her head, her lips pursed soothingly.

"I'm not in any hurry," she whispered.

She bent down to kiss him, shivering a little as a the chilly night air blew through the tent. Luke pulled her closer, and Mara arched back slightly, giving him an impish look.

"If you _are_ that worried about knocking me up, you could wear latex," she suggested. "For double protection."

"Uhmmhmm," Luke mumbled evasively, trying to pull her back for a kiss, forget the subject -

" _Ah_ ," accused Mara triumphantly in his ear. "There's your human flaw, darling," she joked, as if she'd finally ferreted it out: "When it comes to latex, you're as much of a whiner as any other man."

He grinned sheepishly, teasingly mumbled something about loving the way she felt too much for all that, and she swatted him, pinching his ribs with a shake of her head. When Luke exhibited his flaws, she loved him more, and she was giddy, now, with confidence in their affair - something that was destined, no doubt, to solidify into forever, and forever was a thing Mara had never before possessed the privilege to dream of. Luke held onto her tightly, brimming with optimism, with reckless abandon, and he closed his eyes to breathe in the air of the ancient planetary forest around them, saturated with power, fresh and crisp. He felt at ease - there has been such tumult in his soul since his first fight with Leia, since he'd gone home, since her miscarriage - he had been firm in his attachment to Mara, but the space apart allowed for too much logic, and with her now - it was just so clear, that he was as deserving of a love like this as Leia was, and Leia had no say in taking this from him.

His next commitment was the opening of the Alderaanian Haven, but that was two months or so from now - distant, and here on Tython, there was much to explore, in the Force, and between himself and Mara, a relationship to deepen - because after he had leveled the playing field, offered his three-worded commitment to Mara, there was a new element to moving forward - an element of tending to roots, rather than occasionally watering pretty petals - he had always harbored a bristling, uncertain feeling about Leia meeting Mara, because it seemed foolish to irritate old wounds, or enter into strife, for something that might be a doomed fling - but he knew that this, whether it was doomed or not, was so far from a mere fling; he wanted a life with Mara that was not kept separate from the life he'd won through the success of the Rebellion, and through his own coming of age.

* * *

 _story #361_

 _\- alexandra_


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